


Eighth time's the charm

by aspiringTwiceFan (itotoro)



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/F, Pining, low key comedic, unadulterated fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itotoro/pseuds/aspiringTwiceFan
Summary: Chou Tzuyu,  JYP's top performer and the beauty of Taiwan, has a problem.Im Nayeon, her best friend and the love of her life, cannot take a hint.Now she stands, a bouquet in hand, on the doorstep of Nayeon's apartment.This is her love story, thirteen years in the making, and Tzuyu is more than ready to risk it all.
Relationships: Chou Tzuyu/Im Nayeon
Comments: 10
Kudos: 161
Collections: Push & Pull: A Natzu Writing Collection





	Eighth time's the charm

**Author's Note:**

> A burst of fluff-lightning struck me while I was wallowing in drafts of angst. I decided to keep it simple.
> 
> Hope you read the rest of the contest pieces! Maybe you can even contribute :D

Tzuyu stands at the doorstep of Nayeon's apartment.

She looks left and right, spots no Dispatch personnel, and declares the coast clear.

This is her eight attempt in eight months to confess to her childhood friend, Im Nayeon. If she could get out of the friendzone, that is.

This is her love story, thirteen years in the making, and Tzuyu is more than ready to risk it all.

* * *

They started as an unlikely friendship.

The Chou family had just migrated from Taiwan, their daughter a tall, skinny girl with harsh eyebrows and thick hair. They settled near the capital, enrolling Tzuyu in the international school ten minutes from home.

Tzuyu was an alien. Primary year students weren't fond of aliens.

She hid her harsh eyebrows under thick bangs, walking alone to the Hanseol International School. She shied from the prying eyes of her peers, opting always to sit at the back row, by the door. She couldn't understand the advanced Korean words, but was too shy to ask the teacher for help. None of her classmates bothered with her.

She ate in the girls' restroom during recess.

Toilet lid down, she sat with her packed lunch balanced on her knobbly knees, eating with her new, Korean chopsticks. They were flatter and smaller than the chopsticks she used in Taiwan.

One day the chopsticks slipped out of her hand. She tried to catch them, but instead tipped herself forward on the toilet bowl. The packed lunch tipped over with her, kimbap and soy sauce spilling on the floor of the girls' restroom. The metal utensils clanged on the marble tiles.

It sucked. Tzuyu stared at her spilled kimbap, wondering what she could do to save her food. Or how she could clean it. Maybe she should've just stayed at home.

A loud knock on the stall's door distracted Tzuyu from her thoughts. "Open the door!" boomed the voice of another girl. Startled, Tzuyu stood up and opened it.

It was a girl, her height, with severe bangs and the blue ribbon of an eighth grader. Had she known that this was the love of her life, Tzuyu would have tried to make a better first impression.

"Huh, you're really tall for someone in fourth grade," said the girl. It felt like she was adding insult to injury. "I'll help you clean up."

Tzuyu forgot how to say "you don't have to help me" in Korean, so she said "sorry" instead.

The older girl spoke a little too fast; Tzuyu caught enough of it to know that the older girl was staying.

"I'm sorry, I'm a foreigner" she mustered. Her go-to lines for this kind of situation.

The older girl did a double take, eyes bright with realization.

"Okay. I'm helping you," she said, gently holding on to Tzuyu's elbow. She guided her out of the stall, then stooped to pick up Tzuyu's lunch set from the floor. "Do you have a bag?"

Perplexed, Tzuyu pointed to the lunchbox sitting atop the toilet's tank. The older girl grabbed it, zipping it open. "Oh wait," she said, before dumping the rest of Tzuyu's spoiled lunch into the toilet bowl.

"What? What is that?" Tzuyu would have said a lot of things if she knew the words for them, and some of them were not appropriate for her age.

"It's dirty. I throw it away" replied the older girl. She packed the lunch container and the chopsticks into the lunchbox. "Now I call the janitor. Janitor is the word for 'person who cleans'" said the older girl.

Tzuyu noticed that her front teeth were bigger than usual. Like a rabbit.

That would stick with her for the rest of her life.

"Thank you," was all Tzuyu could say. "Are we friends?"

"Of course," replied the older girl, reaching for Tzuyu's hand. "Now let's get you some lunch."

* * *

Tzuyu stands for five minutes before she realizes that she forgot to ring the doorbell.

Sheepish, she presses the button. A tune rings through the apartment, audible from where she stood. It's shortly followed by a "coming" in a familiar voice.

This is it. Tzuyu's palms sweat as they hold the bouquet. This was one of her rare day-offs; she wasn't about to waste it like she did the past seven times. She tries not to remember the past seven times she attempted to confess; they did nothing for her confidence.

Tzuyu realizes too late that the flowers are wrapped in crêpe paper; the red color is already bleeding on her hands. She wipes it on her jeans, holding the bouquet inside her fall coat.

It strikes her funny that she's using a Vera Wang coat to carry her flowers, and wiped a stain on her $300 jeans. She's still nervous.

"Is that you, Tzuyu?" Nayeon opens the door without warning, dressed only in sleepwear. The door hits Tzuyu on the nose. "There you are! Come in-oh?"

Tzuyu tries to smile like she would in a magazine pictorial, but all she can muster is a dimpled display of discomfort. "Uh, these are for you." She hands the flowers to Nayeon, who takes them with a big smile.

This is it: Tzuyu rehearsed this on her flight back to Seoul this morning, and she is ready to risk it all. She's not going to chicken out this time, and she kept her phone on silent mode just in case.

"How did you know?" asks Nayeon as she smells the flowers.

Wait, what? This isn't part of the script.

"I was gonna tell you about my promotion after brunch, but you knew!" Nayeon pulls at Tzuyu's empty hand, bringing her inside. "Come on, I'm hungry."

* * *

The more Tzuyu learned about Hangul, the more she learned about Im Nayeon.

Being surrounded by Korean friends helped a lot. Nayeon and Jeongyeon, a seventh grader, would banter in front of her in rapid Korean; Dahyun, a sixth grader, was patient enough to explain what was going on.

A lot of her informal lessons happened in recess, in a park table outside of the main building. The weather was pleasant, summer going into fall, except leaves fell into her food sometimes.

Nayeon lifted a fist in a mock punch towards Jeongyeon's face, speaking in rapid Korean. "She's saying she will punch Jeongyeon in the throat," whispers Dahyun to Tzuyu, "because Jeongyeon ate her dessert. Dessert is like, cake and cookies and chocolate."

"I think I've heard the word 'punch' enough times, eonni," noted Tzuyu as she ate her kimbap. Nayeon had taught her how to hold the chopsticks, and Tzuyu got the hang of it in around a month.

It was great to eat with friends. Their small group has been eating together for a while, long enough for Tzuyu's bangs to get unmanageable. Her parents were too busy to find a hair salon nearby, and Tzuyu was not going to cut the bangs herself again.

She tried to brush them aside but they fell back in place.

Nayeon noticed. "Tzuyu-ah, you should get a haircut."

"I know," responded Tzuyu, "my bangs poke into my eyes."

Jeongyeon laughed, big. It was her signature sound. "That's one way to say it. Why not wear a headband or a clip in the meantime?"

"She's right, added Nayeon. She stood up, reaching over to the other side of the table, to Tzuyu. "Let me see."

Gentle fingers touch Tzuyu's forehead, brushing her bangs to the right. Nayeon's face was close, oval with rosy cheeks and plump lips. There were no bangs to obscure her vision now, and Tzuyu realized that she liked being this close to Nayeon. Her heart skipped a beat.

"You're really pretty, Tzuyu." Nayeon's eyes wandered all over Tzuyu's face. "Your eyebrows make you look angry, but that's not a problem. Once you're older, you can get your eyebrows threaded."

What was that about her eyebrows? "Sorry? What's threading?" asked Tzuyu, distracted as her eyes mapped Nayeon's face.

Nayeon moved back, once again sitting on the bench of the park table. "Threading is changing the shape of your eyebrows," she traced the shape of her own eyebrows, "but you use a string. That's why it's called threading."

Nayeon paused, concentrating on Tzuyu. "If you keep growing taller, you could be a model with that face."

Jeongyeon snorted. "Aren't you getting too passionate about this, Im Nayeon? She's just a kid."

"I know potential when I see it."

What was 'potential'? Tzuyu moved to ask Dahyun, but Nayeon called her attention.

"Tzuyu," Nayeon pulled a clip out of her long, dark hair. Tzuyu watched as Nayeon's hair fell out of place, framing the older girl's face. "Wear this, okay? You should show your eyes more often."

Nayeon handed her a blue clip, smaller than a finger, but the right thickness for Tzuyu's bangs. It fit well. "Thank you, Nayeon-eonni."

Nayeon stared for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Don't wear it like that! Your hair is sticking out." She stood up, moving to sit beside Tzuyu. "Turn to me, I'll fix it for you."

* * *

Whatever courage Tzuyu mustered, it dissipated at Nayeon's interruption.

She has been through anxiety-inducing situations before; performers thrived on pressure. Just this morning, she had to smile her way through a tough airport crowd.

But with Nayeon, all her rehearsed decorum flies out the window.

Tzuyu sits at Nayeon's living room table, meek as a lamb, as the older woman prepares their brunch. It wasn't the first time she visited; Tzuyu had made it a point to visit Nayeon at least once a month. It has become their habit since Nayeon returned from Busan after college.

She rubs her sweaty palms on the knees of her jeans, pulling together a semblance of composure.

"It's really sweet of you to come here straight from the airport," says Nayeon from the kitchen. It sounds like she's frying something. "Where did you come from this time?"

It's a simple question but Tzuyu's tongue trips over in her mouth. "Milan, Italy."

"Wow, aren't you jetlagged now?" Nayeon enters the living room with a tray and two bowls of bibimbap. Her shorts are so short that they hide underneath her big t-shirt.

Tzuyu gulps. "I'm fine."

"You sound tired," replies Nayeon as she sets down the tray, "but you still remembered me!" She pinches Tzuyu's cheek.

Tzuyu's face scrunches up at the action. "Nayeon-eonni, stop treating me like a kid."

Nayeon huffs, sitting down. She uses her chopsticks to mix the rice, vegetables, and meat in her bowl. "I was just so touched okay? You're the first to congratulate me about my promotion. The day after, no less."

Tzuyu looks down at her bowl. There's a fresh egg on top of the steaming rice, leeks, carrots, and sweet beef. She frowns as she mixes her bowl, watching as the egg cooks in the residual heat of the bibimbap.

"Really, it's long time coming," Nayeon speaks with her mouth full. "After two years of slaving away, typing articles, my boss finally saw my potential."

"Um, about your promotion," Tzuyu tries to move the topic, push it in her direction. "I'm happy you got promoted, but I'm not here for that." Tzuyu wipes her palms on her jeans, summoning courage.

This was exactly how it went the last seven times she tried to confess. Tzuyu broached the topic, then Nayeon would shoot it down. Tzuyu tries again though.

"I know, I know, you're here for the free food." Nayeon shoots her down with a grin. "I made your favorite, no less."

* * *

Tzuyu was scouted in ninth grade.

"I knew it!" Nayeon exclaimed when she read the calling card for the third time. They were walking to school that morning; Nayeon started the habit when she learned that Tzuyu lived a couple of blocks away. "And she really is an employee of JYPE." She looked at Tzuyu, beaming. "Have you told Jeongyeon and the others yet?"

"You're the first to know, actually" replied Tzuyu, looking at her feet. "I'm telling everyone during recess."

"Oh," Nayeon looked at the card, then handed it back to Tzuyu. "I'll keep it a secret then. I knew your height and beauty would catch attention some day."

"Well, I don't want to be just a face, eonni. I want to perform too." Tzuyu was shy with her dreams, tight-lipped except to Nayeon.

"I know," assured the older girl, "I've heard you sing enough times."

Tzuyu kicked a rock with her shoe as they walked. It rolled along the asphalt beside them. "Also, you can tell Jeongyeon-eonni. I know you want to."

"You sure? Just 'cause she's my girlfriend doesn't mean she has to know everything I know."

Tzuyu tried to smile, but all she could muster then was a dimpled display of discomfort. "You probably couldn't hide it anyway."

Nayeon didn't seem to notice. "Hey!" She knocked her shoulder into Tzuyu, as if trying to push her off balance. "You're forgetting your manners just 'cause you're a few cm taller than me now."

Tzuyu chuckled. "I only have a couple of months left to tease you, you know." And it was true; Nayeon would be moving to Busan for college in the coming fall.

"You're right," replied Nayeon.

They took a left at the GS-25. Nayeon's favorite ice-cream stop on the way home.

"I'll miss this, Tzuyu-ah. I'll miss everyone." Nayeon said.

"Yeah," said Tzuyu. There were a couple of things that she wanted to say, but she swallowed them down.

* * *

There was no way Tzuyu could salvage this breakfast. She resigns herself to an eighth failed confession and a good, hot bowl of bibimbap. Nayeon made it the way she likes it, hot rice and more vegetables and the meat a little sweeter than usual. That, at least, is comfort.

"Jeongyeon and Dahyun messaged the chat," Nayeon mentions as Tzuyu spoons some rice into her mouth. "They're asking if we're free for dinner tomorrow night."

Tzuyu stirs the rice in her bowl. How was she going to tell Jeongyeon and Dahyun that she failed for the eighth month in a row? She takes another spoon of rice into her mouth.

At this rate, she might as well give up.

"So," Nayeon interrupts Tzuyu's dejected munching, "are you seeing anyone now?"

Tzuyu freezes, eyes widening. She drops her bowl and chopsticks on the table. "Nope, i'm single!" She says louder than intended.

A stray grain of rice flings from her mouth to the space in front of her bowl. She pinches it with her fingers before Nayeon notices.

"Oh, that's fine I guess." Nayeon mixes her near-empty bowl of bibimbap. She looks deep in thought.

Gears click in Tzuyu's head.

She drinks some water. Summons thirteen years' worth of courage.

"Are you seeing anyone, Nayeon-eonni?" Tzuyu flinches at the habit. She was trying to move out of the sisterly relationship here; the honorific won't help with that.

"Actually," Nayeon stirs her bowl a little more vigorously. It doesn't go unnoticed. "I'll go get the dessert."

If there was anything her years of pining taught her, it was that Nayeon was hiding something. Hope thumps in her chest, makes its way to her eardrums.

"I'll help you with that."

* * *

"I broke up with Jeongyeon."

Tzuyu couldn't put a finger on what she was feeling. It was the evening of her eleventh month as a trainee - Nayeon's eighth month in college. Jeongyeon and Nayeon had been dating for almost two years.

"Are you okay?" she asked in the bathroom of their dormitory. It was where she hid her cellphone, away from the prying eyes of the managers.

Tzuyu heard a sniffle. "It was a long time coming."

"Should I look for Jeongyeon-eonni tomorrow and smack some sense into her?" Tzuyu asked. "If it's something she did, you can still fix it-"

"It's not her, Tzuyu," said Nayeon from the other end of the line. "It's just, being in college made me realize certain things."

What were those things? Tzuyu was more than eager to listen. "You can tell me about those things, you know."

"It's okay," said Nayeon, "hearing your voice is enough for now."

Ah, this was the feeling of hope. Tzuyu's heartbeat echoed in her chest, found its way to her eardrums.

"I'm always here for you, Nayeon-eonni. When you come back, I'll be here for you."

And Tzuyu believed that. She tried hard every day, so that when Nayeon comes back, Tzuyu would be ready for her.

"That's enough for now, Tzuyu."

* * *

This is her shot.

Tzuyu can feel it in the adrenaline. She's going to confess, even if it's in Nayeon's kitchen, with palms sweaty and a stain on her designer jeans.

She watches as Nayeon pulls a tub of ice cream out of the fridge. She sweeps her hair over her shoulder, makes sure nothing obscures her face.

"Do you want one scoop, or two?" Nayeon turns to Tzuyu, opening the tub of ice cream. It's vanilla, her favorite.

Tzuyu will not be distracted. "Are you seeing anyone now?"

Bingo: it catches Nayeon off guard. The older woman steps back, eyebrows furrowed.

It's the clincher moment. "Nayeon," says Tzuyu, a lump forming in her throat, "do you like anyone now?"

Nayeon's eyes widen.

"Tzuyu-ah, you're forgetting your manners." Nayeon tries to pass it off as nonchalant, but Tzuyu knows this. Watching from the sidelines taught her this much.

Tzuyu steps into Nayeon's personal space. "I'm not. I don't want to treat you as my eonni anymore." She stares at the older woman, challenging her to keep eye contact.

There it is, the faint blush on Nayeon's cheeks. She looks down, away from Tzuyu's probing eyes. "You're too close."

Tzuyu's instincts tell her to stay where she is. She wants to be this close, she wants to kiss Nayeon now.

But she listens when Nayeon speaks. So she steps back. Watches as Nayeon takes a deep breath. Wonders if she lost her momentum.

Nayeon sets the vanilla ice cream down. "Here goes."

She steps into Tzuyu's personal space, crashes their lips together.

Tzuyu realizes that kisses are wet, Nayeon's bunny teeth hurt against her own, and that this is her first kiss. Ever.

It tastes like bibimbap and saliva.

Nayeon kissed her. Is kissing her. Tzuyu closes her eyes. Wonders if she's dreaming.

Nayeon steps back too soon, breathing heavily. "Wow."

Tzuyu touches her fingers to her own lips. She feels like a ten-year old foreigner again, unable to articulate her thoughts. "Since when?"

"Um, " Nayeon rambles, looking down, "since senior high. But you're like my younger sister. It's really weird," her eyes flick from her feet to Tzuyu's face, "you were ten years old when I met you."

Tzuyu stares at Nayeon, captivated by the blush on her face.

"You're kidding. " Tzuyu's words leave her mouth before she could stop herself. "I like you too."

Nayeon shrugs her shoulders. "Well, I didn't know you played for the home team." She points to the ice cream tub. "It's melting, do you want one scoop or two?"

This is the culmination of Tzuyu's love story, thirteen years in the making. It feels a little anticlimactic.

"Also," Nayeon bites her lip, "I kind of like it when you call me eonni."

It makes Tzuyu smile, dimpled and a little devilish. "Kiss me again, Nayeon-eonni."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking too much about the age gap. Tzuyu is 23 and Nayeon is 27. 27/2 = 13.5 + 7 = 20.5. 23>20.5, so that means Tzuyu isn't too young for Nayeon. HELP 
> 
> edit: we're good we're good
> 
> Kidding aside, hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
